A Year in the Life and Other Rent Stories
by S. Snowflake
Summary: A collection of Rent oneshots and drabbles. All the bohos are here, though there's a bit more emphasis on Mark and Collins' adventures than the rest. All canon pairings with a touch of Mark and an original character as well.
1. A Year in the Life

_Author's Note: This is my third **Rent** fan fiction, and a nice one, I think. I don't have much to say here except that I was inspired to write this after seeing Rent onstage for the first time when it came to San Francisco awhile back, and it was simply amazing! That being said, I do not own any of the characters here except for an original character named Musetta. You'll see who she is soon enough, but if you have read my other story, "The Camera Loves You", then it will make a lot more sense to you.  
_

_*S. Snowflake_

* * *

_**A Year in the Life**_

**-A Rent Fan Fiction**

The projector light danced across the wall of the loft as it displayed single frames. The old machine flickered and blacked, showing the film that the filmmaker Mark was trying to get working on that cool spring night. He scowled at the projector and fiddled with the wire connected to the power.

"Damn it, work! Piece of shit…" he muttered with frustration. He hoped that his friends Roger, Maureen, Joanne, Mimi, Collins, Benny, and Musetta weren't paying too much attention to him.

"Mark, we could always screen it later," Roger said somewhat under his breath.

"No, it has to be tonight," Mark replied. "I finally finished it."

Roger rolled his eyes and Mimi shook her head. She turned around to Musetta and whispered, "Got any idea what your boyfriend's so desperate to show us?"

Musetta shrugged. "He says it's a surprise."

Joanne squinted a little and looked at the projector. "Mark, I'm no technical expert, but maybe you want to try flipping that switch right there?" the lawyer asked.

"Huh?" Mark said with a questioning look on his face before taking another look at the projector and taking her advice. Sure enough, the projector turned on a second time and screened almost perfectly.

"Good call," he said and ran over to the group to watch, almost slipping. Musetta moved over a little to let him sit by her as she and Mimi giggled. Then, all their eyes turned to the screen as the title, "A Year in the Life" came onscreen.

Some basic footage of Alphabet City came onscreen as the movie started…

"_Friends are all that a person can ask for, and there are no friends like my friends," narrated Mark._

_There were clips of all of them. Roger playing his guitar in the loft, Mimi doing a mimic of her Cat Scratch Club dances, Maureen singing a song from Carmen, Joanne making an odd face at the camera, Collins handing out flyers about his Theory of Actual Reality to passerby, Benny tapping his foot at Roger's Christmas Eve gig while his wife Allison just scowled beside him, and Musetta painting wildly._

_"Now, normally, you'd be hearing me talk through this whole thing, but this time I thought I'd leave that job up to these guys," Mark's voice concluded. "Here goes."_

_The film cut to Roger, sitting in the loft, a guitar pick in his hand. "You seriously want to interview me right now, man?" Roger asked._

_"Yes, just answer the questions," Mark's voice said from somewhere. "Tell the folks at home about yourself."_

_Roger rolled his eyes. "I'm Roger Davis. I'm a songwriter, working on fixing all the mistakes I made back when."_

_"Okay, so what are you working on now, Roger?" asked Mark._

_Roger shrugged. "Getting some of my music to sell, I guess," he said. "I've already had some gigs this year and I've got a single on the air."_

_The camera closed up a little on Roger. "So…what would you say is your inspiration for your songs, Roger?"_

_Roger took a pause onscreen and smiled. "Lots of things, but there's one girl out there that inspires me most. That's Mimi Marquez."_

"_What about her inspires you?"_

_Roger looked to the floor, then back to the camera. "You know, I can't explain it."_

_The footage cut away to Mimi and Roger walking together, hand in hand. She danced in the street like a nut while Roger laughed in one clip, then they kissed in another. _

"_-I can't explain what about her makes me feel like I can write these songs, but she's just… always there, you know?" Roger concluded and began to strum his guitar again with a smile on his face before the footage cut to Mimi._

"_-Me?" Mimi asked onscreen. "Well, I don't know. I'm a dancer at the Catscratch Club, I've got no family in a hundred miles, and… I'm HIV positive. Sure, I know I don't have a whole lifetime, but it's not all bad. I've got Rog and my friends."_

_The footage cut away to Roger and Mimi sharing another kiss, but the interview continued in the background, "So, what would you say about you and Roger?"_

"_-I love Rog, that's all I need to say." The movie showed more footage of she and Roger as she continued, "I guess that's what makes it all okay, you know? Love."_

_The next scene was from outside Roger and Mark's loft window on the fire escape. It was really terrible in quality, for the camera was shaking and the chortles of Mark, Maureen, and Musetta were in the background, but nevertheless Roger and Mimi walked into the loft and talked for bit, then Roger got down on one knee before Mimi hugged him tight enough to strangle him. Maureen and Musetta finally cheered and Mimi turned to look before screaming, "You __**did not**__ just get that on film, did you?"_

_Maureen's voice cut in before she showed up onscreen. "Yeah, I was surprised when Roger proposed to Mimi. Still, how couldn't I be happy about that?"_

"_What about you?" asked Mark. "Are you happy?"_

_Maureen smiled. Some footage came onscreen of the lawyer and the performer fighting as an interlude. "Me and Joanne fight sometimes, but everyone does. Sometimes we just need our space."_

_Joanne's face came onscreen next. "Sometimes I feel like I can't trust Maureen. I mean, she just doesn't think." A clip showed Maureen screaming at the top of her lungs and looked ready to get into a fight with some anti-lesbian girl passing by before Joanne held her back from ripping the girl's head off. "Sometimes," said Joanne, "I feel like I have to protect her."_

"_Most of the time we fight over… little things," said Maureen before the film showed the two lesbians having a nasty fight at the Life Café. "-But I've never had a relationship last this long, and I really think it's something special this time."_

_Joanne's face came onscreen and she sighed. "Sometimes Maureen drives me crazy." She stopped and smiled. "-But she's still my Honeybear."_

_The last shot of the pair showed them share a small kiss at the bar of the Life Café before Benny's voice came in._

"_Let's just say I can't believe you're actually filming me," Benny said. "I-I messed up before, I'll admit it. Money can do bad things to a person." _

_It showed Benny and his wife Allison cuddling a new puppy, this one a little Dacshund hound they called Anton. Benny had bought the dog for his wife a year after the loss of Evita, even though he wasn't too upset by the loss of the first dog. Allison kissed him in response. They almost seemed touching on film._

"_I really do care about Allison and the Greys. That'll never change. All the same, I sometimes miss that old life with my friends," Benny said when he came back onscreen and looked to his feet, seemingly ashamed. _

_Collins appeared onscreen next. "Friends call me Collins, Tom Collins. When I can get a job, I teach a course in Computer Age Philosophy, and I'm almost done compiling my Theory of Actual Reality. There."_

_Mark paused in his interview off screen. "Are you sure that's all, Tom?"_

_Collins sighed. "Well, no… I don't know. Sometimes I just get down about things, I-I lost someone I really loved."_

_There was some older footage that showed Angel, the late drag queen bohemian. He (or as almost everyone called him, she), was dancing about in those platform shoes of his. Next it showed Collins and Angel on the subway together, kissing sweetly._

"_We knew it wasn't forever," Collins said off screen, "But I wish there was something I could've done… Oh, well."_

"_Oh well?" asked Mark._

_Collins came back onscreen. "Angel never wanted me to be sad about it." He smiled a little and shook his head. "That girl never gave up on anything, but especially not family. That's what we all are here. Family. I've seen lots of faces come and go here in Alphabet City, but somehow we stay together. I couldn't be happier about that."_

_The scene cut away to Musetta, who was making a face at the camera before her interview started. "Me? Well, let's see. I-uh, I love to paint. It's just what I do. I mean, I'm working on getting a degree in art, but I really want to make something… different. Something special, you know?" _

_There was an interlude of footage of Musetta, Collins and Maureen socializing at the Life Café. "Let me just ask, when did you come into the circle here?" Mark asked off screen._

_Musetta smiled when she came back on. "Let's just say I had a little encouragement from some insane cameraman." _

_A clip showed Musetta attempting to run away from the camera, shaking and following her, before she turned around sharply, grabbed it, and pointed it at Mark. The sound came on, and Mark begged onscreen, "Y-you're holding it wrong, just let me do it. Muse…"_

_The clip went back to Musetta. "Mark and his friends took me in. Well, in an awkward sort of way. They're like my family away from family… especially Mark."_

_The footage changed to Mark actually letting himself be interviewed. "I'm not used to this kind of thing… having me be in the story, I mean. I guess you could say I like to stay on the outside of things. I've watched my friends for so long."_

_There was a scene of everyone at the Life Café raising a glass to the camera._

"_-But I think I'm starting to feel that connection," Mark continued before the footage showed him scowling at the camera and placing his hand over it so that no one would see himself. "It took a long time to get there, but I think I'm feeling more myself these days."_

_There was a long montage of footage. Everyone had their own moment in the movie. These were simple, great times over the year. _

_There was Mimi, showing off her engagement ring to the camera before another clip showed her studying class books. She had gone back to school and became Roger's fiancée. Next was Roger, hugging Mimi tight before another shot came of him performing at his big, Christmas Eve gig. Another shot showed everybody except Musetta listening to the half-busted radio for "Your Eyes" to make its debut on the air. They cheered when they heard it. That song had really won Roger some fans, and he knew that he was on his way back on track._

_Benny and Allison stood by the sign on the other side of town that read, "Future Home of the Cyber Arts Studio". Oblivious to them though, Maureen was making "cow ears" out of her fingers behind them. Even with Benny's dream now a reality, Maureen would never approve of what she called "Cyberland". Joanne was shown next, crying silently from stress at a particularly bad case before Maureen came up and kissed her girlfriend's lips. There was another scene of Joanne getting a little tipsy at the Life Café and Maureen laughing hysterically before she fell down flat on her face. Sometimes it seemed that there was no real difference between type A and type B with those two._

_Next was Collins, lecturing some part of his theory to Life Support members, who were all listening with a fair amount of interest. There was yet another shot where Roger and Collins were singing Christmas carols, but rather off key. Roger likely had filmed the next, very zoomed-in shot of Mark and Musetta sharing a long kiss before Musetta blocked the camera lens with her hand. Mark finally meeting a girl was something that had happened over the year as well._

_A last shot showed everybody at the New Year's Eve party at the Life Café. There were toasts and laughter all around, and of course, there was dancing on the table. At last, the screen darkened and faded with the words, __**No Day but Today**__ onscreen…_

"So, what'd you think?" Mark asked his friends when the film ended, shutting off the projector.

The bohemians stared at the wall. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Maureen, as usual, broke the silence. "Mark, that was… damn, that said it all!"

Collins started to laugh. "Yeah, and I just thought that was a practice interview you did. I can't believe you got me so worked up."

"Never trust a filmmaker," added Mimi. "-But it was good."

"Good? It was great!" said Joanne. "I've never seen any of this, Mark."

Benny nodded. "Yeah, you never made a documentary about our lives just as a casual thing."

Roger raised his eyebrows and spoke to his best friend, "I've got to agree. It was more sentimental and sappy." He was jabbed in the rib by Mimi and Musetta at the same time. "-But, hey, it was good."

"Finally the filmmaker is actually in one of his own films," Musetta said and winked at Mark. "I think it was a good touch."

"You should make one like this for next year, Mark," said Maureen. "Who knows? Maybe then Mimi will be Mimi Davis, and Joanne and me can get engaged… again." Joanne looked over at the performer, eyes wide. "Or, well, maybe you and Muse could get married, or…"

"-We get it, Maureen," interrupted Mark.

Roger raised a glass, empty though it was. "To us!"

Everyone else pretended to grab onto a glass with their hands. Maureen made "clank-clank" noises to compensate for a toast. Indeed, the night was to the bohemians.

**The End**


	2. Flickering Drabbles

_Author's Note: I know I'm treading into dangerous waters by posting this, but... I couldn't help myself. Here goes with my Rent stories collection! Please don't expect me to update this as much as my other oneshot and drabbles collections. I'm pretty busy right now, and writing takes up a chunk of time I don't always have. I will at least have more drabbles available soon, but likely not too many stories for awhile. I've got to finish my other oneshots first. For now, enjoy these bits and pieces of my imagination, all! _

_*S. Snowflake_

* * *

**_Flickering Drabbles_**

1. **Flickering**

_Inspired by the song, "Christmas Bells"_

_From "Rent"_

Mark liked to watch the city lights when he was alone in the loft sometimes. Once, he let his camera just sit out on the railing and record the patterns of the lights flickering on and off. Christmas was always when the lights seemed brighter and more abundant. _Probably because of the Christmas lights_, he thought. _Sure is nice out tonight. Too bad Roger's stuck inside._

He could sympathize with Roger of course. It was still such a short time since Roger's girlfriend April had died. He would never get over her suicide completely...

2. **The Alphabet City Ballroom**

_Inspired by the song, "I'll Cover You"_

_From "Rent"_

Though Angel's primary talent was percussion, she greatly enjoyed dancing around, especially with Collins. They used Alphabet City as their ballroom of the streets, sweeping in their movements left and right. They didn't care what the rest of the world thought in any regard, it was just them. Admittedly, Collins didn't have that natural body rhythm that Angel did, no, he was more of the philosophical type. It didn't bother Angel at all to teach him what she knew at all though. She just liked to have a good time along with loving everyone else, but most especially Collins.

3. **Can't Stop Loving**

_Inspired by the song, "I Just Can't Help Believin'"_

_Artist: Elvis Presley_

Mark smiled and kissed Musetta's cheek. Their relationship was something special, he knew that now. He knew that he had loved Maureen, but it was different, more like a pact and drawn attraction. Musetta was faithful and he couldn't stop loving her. It gave him hope that it could last for a long time...maybe forever.

They interlocked their hands as they strolled down the street together. She had those big, artist hands that almost were larger than his. Still, their hands were warm like a glove.

4. **Pink Carnations**

_Inspired by the song, "When She Loved Me"_

_Artist: Jordan Pruitt_

Joanne got lonely when Maureen would leave her. It hurt too much to have her drama queen leave. She bit her lip, trying to focus on her latest case, but when Maureen left for three days because of a little argument (and squatted at Mark and Roger's as usual), she felt like crying. These days, it almost seemed like their little love affair was ending.

Then, suddenly, Maureen walked into the room, bearing a bouquet of pink carnations.

"Pookie?" was all she said before leaving them with Joanne...

5. **Not on Your Life**

_Inspired by the song, "Without You"_

_From "Rent"_

Mimi went through another bout of sickness about a month after Christmas. It wasn't a bad cold or anything, but enough to make Roger stay home with her all day. He held her hand tight as she coughed.

"Rog, you should get someone else. What if you get sick?" she asked after that last fit.

Roger shook his head. "Not on your life, Meems."

Mimi smiled and sniffled. "-Or yours."

Roger almost laughed, but couldn't hide his fear about losing Mimi. He loved her too much.


	3. More than That Drabbles

_Author's Note: I wrote a lot of these drabbles actually about a month ago. I've just been waiting to post them here. So, you'll see a lot of my OC in here again, since I was still working on my story with her in it. Other than that, it's just more randomness that happens to translate to RENT in my imagination when I turn on my ipod. Oka, enjoy, and happy early holidays, all!  
_

_*S. Snowflake_

* * *

_**More than That Drabbles**_

1. **More than That**

_Inspired by the song, "What I Like About You"_

_Artist: Everlife_

Musetta liked to paint on her spare time between work and school, but lately she hadn't painted a lot. It was difficult to stay away from Mark and his group of friends, as they were interesting people to be around.

Mark was her companion now...okay, more than that. He was an artist, he always had something to say about what was going on, he had a very focused agenda on his films which were all pretty powerful in theme. These were the personal qualities. It also made her happy when he'd whisper that he loved her into her ear. No one had ever said that.

_"You really know how to dance._

_You go up, down and jump around._

_You're a true romance."_

Mark wasn't a very good dancer, but Musetta would still dance with him, just to help him feel better. She could tell he appreciated it, because he'd twirl her around and pull her close for another kiss.

2. **No Explanation**

_Inspired by the song, "All Shook Up"_

_Artist: Elvis Presley_

There was no explanation for it. That was the only explanation. Collins loved Angel and vice versa, and there seemed to be no forewarning or logical reasoning for it. It was love right out of left field...

3. **What do People See?**

_Inspired by the song, "Seasons of Love"_

_From "Rent"_

Mimi thought back on the year. After the Christmas Eve scare, she really took her "no day but today" philosophy seriously. What did people see their lives as when they looked back on them after they died, she wondered. Angel must have figured that out in heaven, but there was an answer to the secret, there just had to be. Was it accomplishments, glory, hard work, or was it love?

4. **If I Was Your Lady…**

_Inspired by the song, "Oxygen"_

_by Colbie Colbie Callait_

Musetta tried to paint pictures on her time off, but lately her thought were interrupted. The young camera man named Mark, striped clad, blond and skinny, just kept popping into her head. They had only seemed to get serious about their friendship on that day in the park. They had been close enough to touch, and sparks began to fly as soon as that moment came.

She smiled and sang,

_"__Oh baby, if I was your lady,_

_I would make you happy…"_

5. **So Damned Hot**

Inspired by the song, "The Sun"

_by Maroon 5_

Mark walked back to the loft that lonely day. It was just one of those times when he was hating his existence. It was a damn hot day, that's what it was. He couldn't even wear his lucky blue and white scarf today because it was so damned hot out.

He thought about Maureen, even more than a year later after she dumped him. Maureen would say something to make him feel almost happy in times like this. She could make him FEEL better, but nothing else. She cheated on him, and now she gave him no respect whatsoever. Now all he had was his camera.

_"Think of her, take a breath,_

_Feel the beat in the rhythm of my steps,_

_Sometimes it's a sad song..._

_Hate to love and love to hate her,_

_Like a broken record player..."_


	4. The Alphabet City Ballroom

_Author's Note:__ Here's a short story I extended from an earlier drabble concept. If you know me, you know I like to write fluff more than good story content much of the time, so here I am with RENT fluff. Oh, this is also my first time writing anything Angel and Collins fluff-related, so let me know what you think. All reviews are much appreciated!_

_*S. Snowflake.

* * *

  
_

_**The Alphabet City Ballroom**_

**-A Short RENT Story**

*** * ***

A man in the brown coat with a lightly torn sleeve and a black beanie cap on his head paced back and forth. He glanced at his tweaked watch every now and then, knowing it did him no good as far as the hour, but the minute hand still moved, and so he could wait for his love and still know how long he was taking inside his apartment.

_As happy as it makes him, why does he have to take so long putting on makeup? _he asked himself inside his head. _Sometimes that Angel drives me crazy._

Then the door opened and he saw just who he was expecting would be there. With two scraping clunk-clunks, Angel walked out onto the sidewalk and smiled that beautifully sweet smile.

"Hello Collins, darling," said Angel, flipping some of her wig out of her eye.

He smiled and said, "Hey, girl."

Even if Angel was really a man dressed in drag, he preferred to be called a girl when he looked (as he called), gorgeous. Collins could respect that, and so he always called Angel girl.

They kissed shortly before a gust of wind pushed Angel off balance and she tripped over the high heels she always wore. Collins tried to catch her, but then he fell too, and they hit the pavement together, toppled on top of each other. For a moment, they just looked into each other's eyes, blushing at the awkwardness.

"You should be more careful, girl," Collins commented and helped Angel stand up. "-Can't have anything happen to you."

Angel balanced precariously, yet gracefully, on one foot. "Honey, don't you worry about me. I'll survive."

Collins smiled nervously as they started walking together. "That's saying something for somebody on Alphabet City." He grimaced, hoping that the subtle signs of Angel growing weaker he had detected were nothing.

Angel smirked just slightly, but they kept walking. Collins was right about the dangers of their bohemian way of life and disease, but then, Angel was right about her ability to keep going. It was funny how she could just compromise disagreements like that. They passed by some homeless with cash cups in their hands, and Angel stopped to give each of them a couple bucks.

"Bless you," said one man with a smile.

Collins watched his boyfriend give the handouts. Even when he was broke just like the homeless, Angel would donate.

Angel rejoined him and they walked down the sidewalk, arms interlocked.

"Where to?" Collins asked.

"Why not stay here?" Angel replied and giggled, twirling him around.

Collins chuckled. "I don't know. Maybe filthy city streets would have something to do with it?"

Angel looked around and winked at Collins. "Well, I don't know about you, but I see a ballroom with lots of beautiful people…" Angel pointed to the homeless, and continued, "-Beautiful tapestries and paintings." Then she pointed to the walls of the building that were nearly covered with graffiti all over it, and a sheet of old Christmas wrapping paper hanging from a tree. "-And you and me in fine dancing clothes."

Collins chuckled again and moved with Angel from side to side. "Either you've got one crazy imagination or I've got none."

"-Or maybe both." The drag queen paused then leaped up in the air in bliss. "Dance?"

"Nah, girl. I don't usually do that kind of thing," Collins answered.

"Then time mix it up a little! It's not everyday you're in the Alphabet City Ballroom."

Collins gave in to his boyfriend's pleas and charm at last. They swept back and forth, at first looking into one another's eyes, then closing them as they danced. Collins tried to be graceful, like he was at a dance with Angel, but he just didn't have that natural rhythm. He never had, and the awkwardness there nearly made him stop. Angel did not mind teaching him what she could though. She held Collins tight and kept her head on his shoulder, humming the music that they imagined was there in the near silence. This time was only theirs. It was only them in Alphabet City, dancing in their imaginary ballroom.

Collins pulled Angel close for another kiss before they heard someone call their names.

"Angel! Collins!" called Mimi as she, Roger, and Mark walked up to them, interrupting their moment. "Me, Rog, and Mark were passing by when-um…"

Roger chuckled. "Were we interrupting something private?"

Angel smiled back and placed a peck on Collin's lips, not ashamed at all. "How could you? The Alphabet City Ballroom is open to everyone."

Mimi and Roger looked sorely confused. Mark seemed a little less confused, just sort of wondering what they meant in his observant manner. The three passed by soon after, leaving the lovers there, still swaying from side to side.

"Very smart, girl," muttered Collins.

Angel giggled and kissed his cheek. "Smarts nothing. I just told them the truth."

**The End**


	5. Drinks and Dreamgirls

_Author's Note: Okay, so my imagination went crazy at the end of Christmas break and I wrote this mid-RENT oneshot. I have to say that this one really went off a concept I had about Mark and Joanne having a conversation about being in relationship with Maureen that implied something more might be between them into, well, this. It's not a bad story, I just never thought that my imagination would go into the pairing until I wrote it. So, here we are!_

_*S. Snowflake_

* * *

_**Drinks and Dream Girls**_

**-A RENT Story**

"It's over! For _real_ this time!"

-CLICK! Then she hung up.

That was the last thing Joanne heard from Maureen. Another nasty fight about nothing particularly important over the phone. Joanne couldn't even remember what the spat had been about now…

The lawyer swigged a strong drink at the Life Café to calm down. It was not in her nature to drink this much (usually she'd stop at feeling a slight buzz), but this fight had been truly bad. By the end of this glass, she was feeling more than tipsy.

The headwaiter glared when he saw the front door open. Joanne, in a better moment, wondered why before seeing that it was Mark coming in. Ever since their Christmas incident at the café, the workers recognized Mark as the first one who jumped on the table in the first place. The headwaiter had a particularly bad grudge from that, since it came out of his paycheck for the disruption.

_Should I even talk to him?_ Joanne wondered_. Mark's been pretty angry since Buzzline._

Joanne decided to turn away, but unfortunately, the filmmaker spotted her out of the corner of his eye. He came over and tapped her shoulder.

"Joanne?" he asked, "What are you doing here?" He paused. "That's some heavy shit! What are you doing?"

Joanne scoffed and smiled, partly drunk. "I'm trying to get drunk. What else could it be?"

Mark raised his eyebrows lightly as Joanne took another sip. "Since it isn't opposite day, I'm guessing you and Maureen got in another fight."

Joanne nodded and indicated for Mark to sit down next to her. "Here, company would be nice…" She shoved a couple bills at the bartender and grumbled, "Two more."

"Thanks for the libation," Mark said to her. "Do you want to talk about it? You know I'll listen."

Their drinks arrived and Joanne sighed. "Okay, Maureen told me that it was over this time. She said I need to get over that she isn't home on time, that it's bullshit she's cheating, and that she can do basically whatever the hell she wants." She took another swig off the drink, numbing and burning her mind. "Is a little commitment too much to ask?"

Mark took a sip off his drink. "Maureen? Maureen can't commit to her own issues, let alone someone else's."

"I think the problem with her is she has all that pent up energy and has nowhere to put it," Joanne said, slurring her words a bit.

"Well, she does put it_ somewhere_… just not where you'd want it to be," Mark replied crudely about Maureen's typical affairs. He decided to order another drink for the hell of it. By the end of the second one though, he too was feeling lightheaded. "I don't think we deserved the bullshit she put us through."

Joanne scowled. "Damn right." She looked over at the clock, having to concentrate deeply before finally getting the time right. "I-I've really got to get out of here."

Then she stood up and wobbled immediately, tripping over her heels. Mark reacted to her fall by catching her gracefully and holding her still for a moment. Their eyes met awkwardly for one moment before Joanne gained some balance and righted herself. As embarrassing as that had been, Joanne knew she was better off asking Mark to help her get home. He obliged shyly.

So, the filmmaker walked the lawyer back home. They barely talked to each other on the way, but the presence of a friend was comforting. Joanne kept her face hidden from Mark. Doing so only brought back thoughts of the last fight she had with Maureen though, and slowly tears began to roll down her cheek. By the time they reached her apartment door, she was choking back sobs.

Mark turned when he heard a small gasp and saw his friend crying. "Joanne?" he asked sympathetically.

Joanne sniffled. "I-I'm sorry. I've just-I wonder these days why I bother keeping this up. Sometimes I… I think about leaving her."

Mark paused, and intentionally walked over to Joanne to look her in the eye. "You could if you wanted to, you know."

"No, no…" Joanne cried into her sleeve, her shoulders shaking.

Mark patted her back lightly, not even thinking about his actions anymore. "Really, you could leave her, Joanne. You…you deserve to be with someone faithful and loving." He took a pause and she looked up at him before he added, "We both do."

Joanne took a breath and dried a tear from her eye. As if the moment was not awkward enough, Mark closed his eyes and suddenly pressed his lips to hers. The kiss lasted a few seconds before Joanne pushed Mark off.

"Mark…" she muttered, half angry and half compassionate.

"I-I'm sorry!" he said, growing very red in the face and looking away. "It's just that, well, since I me met you, I began to think we had a lot in common. We've been stuck in the same boat with Maureen and we think in a similar way. Maureen even called us 'chums'. And, besides, you're smart and successful, and very, very…"

"Mark, I get it," she interrupted with understanding, "I know what's wrong. You've been pretty lonely since Maureen left you, haven't you?"

He nodded. "It's been hell."

Joanne sighed. "Look, Mark, you'll find that dream girl someday, and, you know, she'll been one of the damn luckiest girls in this town."

Mark looked to his feet, saddened. "Yeah…"

Joanne wanted to turn away from her friend and walk into her apartment, but could not. "You know Mark, it's not like I haven't thought about it too."

Mark was surprised to hear that from her. "Really?"

"Yeah," Joanne answered with a chuckle to herself, "Now if you'd only get a sex change…"

Mark coughed and shook his head at the wisecrack. "No matter how wasted I can get, Joanne, that's _not_ going to happen!"

Joanne laughed. "I was just joking." She was just about to shut the door when she looked back out again. "But remember what I said about that dreamgirl, Mark. You'll find her."

"Thanks," Mark replied. He then slyly added, "Good luck with _honeybear_."

Joanne shot Mark a glare through the crack of the door and yelled, "Goodbye, Mark!"

**The End.**


	6. Distance Drabbles

_Author's Note: Sorry that I haven't updated these a while. It's been crazy with my "Little Shop", "Nightmare", and "9" stories all getting wrapped up. Hopefully I'll have something new for this soon. For now, here's a few drabbles to enjoy. they're mostly Mark centric._

*S. Snowflake.

* * *

_**Distance Drabbles**_

1. **Distance**

_Inspired by the song, "Won't Go Home Without You"_

_By Maroon 5._

It was after she left. The night when he and Musetta fought again, the night when they cried, played in his mind. He broke her heart, all because of the stupid feeling that he had to let her go. She didn't want to distance, but he had, and so he hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her.

He wanted to call her phone, but then remembered that only Stacie used that phone now. He couldn't reach Muse if he tried.

"It's not home without you," he thought aloud, alone in the loft. He wondered if he would make it through the night, so lonely and yearning for love that night…

**2. Looking Back**

_Inspired by the song "Seasons of Love"_

Looking back through all his old film reels, Mark reflected on the happenings in Alphabet City, even after the years had long passed and many of the lives that his art had captured faded away. He couldn't bring himself to think of the times when the ones he had loved had been lost. It was too painful.

Of course, he wasn't alone. Those lonely days of starving in Alphabet City seemed distant and foreign now that he was out of that confusing time and doing fairly successfully. He had heard it said that he could never ever measure his life in materials though, only in love…

He had to agree with that ideal.

**3. Light the Candle**

Roger often thought back to that night when he first met Mimi. How funny it was that she had come into the loft, asking if he had a light for her candle. He wondered if she really had needed that candlelight or if it was simply a way to get his attention. Had she known about him for some time? He had seen her around before the big meltdown after April, sure, but had she watched him? It seemed likely. Still, maybe, just maybe, it was love at first sight…


	7. Simply Doodles

_**Simply Doodling**_

_"B-but doctor, the radiation has caused a reaction…"_

_"Don't be ridiculous, Janet. You've been tested as perfectly healthy."_

_"B-but, Doctor, when the moon comes out, I turn…"_

_"Enough! You're fine."_

_"Oh Brad, what should I do? If I go green again, I could hurt someone… even you."_

_You'd never hurt me, Janet…"_

…Those were the odd bits of dialog that came from the television set in the apartment on Avenue E. A young man with blond hair and a girl with chocolate hair sat side by side in this room. A fat black cat flicked its tail in their faces every now and then.

"Man, this has to be one of the most idiotic things I've ever watched in my life," the girl said.

"I know," replied the young man before smiling wide. "Isn't it great?"

"Yeah…" the girl muttered and leaned in closer to her boyfriend, shutting her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her. It all seemed a perfect moment until the girl felt a pinch on her buttocks. "Mark!" she yelped.

Mark smiled sheepishly. "-Couldn't resist, Musetta."

"_Meerooow!_" yowled the cat.

Mark and Musetta glared. "Stupid cat…" Musetta said. She put the large cat down on the floor before walking out of the bedroom. After a few minutes, she returned with a pen and some sheets of paper in hand.

"I want to draw."

"But, Muse, this is the best part. She turns into a giant asparagus!"

"It sounds fan-tastic, Mark, but I just want to draw. Besides, you're always turning on that camera of yours during our dates."

Mark glanced at his camera and noticed that it was out of its bag. He put it away, arguing, "No I don't."

Musetta shook her head and paused. "Hey, why don't you draw with me?"

Mark smirked. "Believe me, Muse, I can't draw."

"Sure you can. Anyone can draw if they want to."

"_Do_ I want to?"

"You do if you don't want me to take that camera away again."

Mark sighed. He certainly was not in the mood to play "camera tag" now. "Fine," he mumbled and picked up a pen.

Mark began to draw a simple shape on a piece of paper: a heart. When he thought about it, a heart was nothing more than two teardrops connected at the side. Then he looked over at Musetta's drawing and ceased to work on his. Musetta was not drawing anything complex either. There was an eye with a single teardrop leaking out of it. It was such a sad little doodle that he could not help but stare at it. When she looked up at him quizzically, he turned away and began working on a new drawing.

Mark drew the only thing that he knew he could draw decently. His camera with the large lens and the hand crank on the side began to form from simple shapes. He smiled at the familiarity of the drawing. He could almost feel the worn metal of the camera in his hands.

Musetta stopped working on her sad piece and looked at Mark's drawing. She chuckled after a while. "Is that camera all you ever think about, Mark?"

He shook his head. "I think about my friends, and you." He paused. "-And back home."

Musetta noticed that her boyfriend's smile wavered. It was not uncommon for this to happen when Mark mentioned his home and family in Scarsdale, especially his father. She had never met Mark's parents. His mother left voicemails enough to know about her. His father, however, rarely called at all, and Mark never called him back when he did leave a message.

"What did he do to you?" Musetta asked without thinking.

"What?" Mark asked, confused.

She bit her lip. "What did your dad do to you, Mark?" He didn't, well, I don't know if I should even ask, but he didn't… _beat_ you or something, did he?"

Mark's eyes widened and he smiled nervously. "My dad hurting me? That's a good one. If he had beaten me, that would've been attention. No, no, my dad, h-he just doesn't care."

"What do you mean?" she asked softly.

"It's kind of hard to explain, but my dad doesn't _feel_. He hides his feelings from everyone. He hides from the people he cares about because he's ashamed of himself. I guess you could say I got a bit of that from him, but growing up with that was like being ignored all the time. I mean…god, I sound selfish."

"No you don't. Go on."

"Well, anyway, you can guess why my enthusiastic mom and deadbeat dad didn't work out. Not only was there nothing in common, but then he cheated on her."

Musetta frowned. "Oh."

"That's why I hate the prick. He left us behind and never once cared about how much it would hurt us. Mom was the one who supported my films, but dad wanted me to get a real job, just like him. So, I got my high school diploma and headed straight for college and almost did what my dad would've wanted, but then decided, fuck it. I want to do what I want to do."

His girlfriend finished her drawing and looked at him. "You could go back to school and look into film. Heck, this is the stuff of films right now."

Mark shrugged, and then looked at the sad eye doodle. "I have to know, what made you draw that?"

Musetta blinked. "Oh, I don't know, just… things."

"Talk."

"Mark-"

"I mean it, talk. I won't leave until you do."

Musetta knew that she could not hide from Mark who could identify pain in others like no one else she knew. "Okay, well, it has to do with Bud."

"Bud? You mean your boyfriend before me?"

"Yeah, _that _Bud. There were some bad times with me and him."

"Like?" Mark asked, leaning in closer.

Musetta looked away. "Bud was… abusive. Okay? At first I thought it was just anger, but then things got bad. He started hurting me on purpose or because he was frustrated with me."

Mark stared at her. "Muse…"

Musetta didn't look at him and a tiny tear escaped her eye. "Dad never liked Bud, and when he heard about the abuse, he called the cops. I wanted to protect Bud, but I was done with the crap he put me through. I used to blame myself for what happened, but now I see how fucked up I was."

Mark put his hand on top of hers, squeezing it tight and making her look into his eyes. "Muse, I…I would never hurt you."

"I know, hon," she answered. "I'd never hurt you either."

Mark simply kissed her cheek.

The two bohemians smiled at each other for a while before Musetta noticed Mark's unfinished drawing. She grabbed his hand and guided it to shade the base. When she was done with that, Mark added an arrow piercing through the heart. She then added their initials M and M. Mark had to ignore a pain in his heart, thinking about how he and Maureen had the same initials. He got a final idea though and took Musetta's hand again. She never asked what they were drawing, but she was satisfied when it was done. The tear dripping from the arrow fit so perfectly on their heart.

**The End.**


	8. The Scarf

_Author's Note: I'm so sorry about my slow updating here! I finally got done with this request for FrauThenardier. It was an old oneshot concept about Mark that I thought was a bit weak, but with enough work I got down to it. Surprisingly, I think I've thought of a good back story for that beloved garment of Mark's. There are two things I'd like to warn the little purists out there who might read this: 1. Mark celebrates Christmas in this story because he was raised in a family that was half Jewish and half Christian (which actually makes sense since his mom calls to wish him Merry Christmas even though he's Jewish). 2. I don't speak Spanish, so don't kill me if I phrased Mimi's bit incorrectly. Also, again I have my OC here. If she's annoyed anyone with her non-cannon existence yet, I'm sorry, but she's in a few of my ideas.  
_

_PS: Please review, folks! I'd love it if you do!_

_*S. Snowflake._

* * *

_**The Scarf**_

**-A RENT fan fiction**

If it had been like any other day for the young cameraman Mark, it would not have happened. But today, he supposed, was not like most days. It was not as if he had not made this mistake before, but it had never had the same consequence. Until now, he had not thought about how losing a scarf would really affect him.

Yes, it was ridiculous to be so upset over a small garment of clothing, but as soon as he found that he had misplaced the damned thing, it wracked his mind all day long and for a few days afterward. How could he have lost it? He usually wore it around his neck, even in the middle of the muggy Manhattan summer, so he could not remember when or where he might have put the scarf down.

The first thought that crossed the young man's mind when he found that his scarf was lost was that it could have been worse. He could have lost his camera or his wallet, empty of footage or money as the precious objects were. He almost brushed it off, but then he passed by a mother and her son walking along the sidewalk and remembered…

* * *

_His mother had always been his protector, even annoyingly so, but there was a time when he truly did need her. He was twelve years old then, but no matter how much of a "big boy" everyone said he was, Mark was not ready for the divorce. His father had been seeing another woman out of essentially boredom and when his mother found out, their long fights began. Mark had never been that close to his father, but it was still distressing to watch him walk off that December evening after a long, nasty fight._

_ "Cindy? Mark?" his mom called from the family room. _

_Mark and his older sister both walked down the stairs at that and almost tiptoed over to their mother from the shock of the sadness that had occurred that night._

"_I was going to wait until Christmas for these after you got those nice Hanukkah presents, but I think that I should give them to you a little early."_

_Cindy sighed, rolling her eyes. "Mom, you don't have to give us a present just because Dad left. We understand what's going on."_

"_Yes…" their mother started, but then pulled out two presents wrapped in Christmas paper. " -But I'm hoping that they just might make things a little better tonight for you two."_

_Mark took his small package and felt that it was very light in his hand. Even if he was about as enthusiastic as Cindy was about these apology presents, he still opened the gift. And just as he had unwrapped the gift, a blue and white striping pattern billowed out and hit the floor._

_The scarf from his mother meant a lot more to him than the earmuffs meant to Cindy because they gave him something to cry into when times were hard…

* * *

_

Roger knew the story of Mark's scarf. Numerous times, he had asked him why he never took the damned thing off, so he heard the story why at least once or twice. But two people were a little surprised to see Mark so at loss by the absence of his scarf; Mimi, Roger's now fiancé, and Musetta, Mark's girlfriend.

"Come on, Mark. I've seen you take that thing off before," Mimi said.

"But lose it? Mimi, I don't know how I lost it and that just makes me more angry with myself."

Musetta paused, thinking about how Mark had thought she had stolen his scarf when they met in the subway station when in reality it was her scarf that looked almost the exact same. "You know, I could always just give you mine. It's practically the same scarf. Heck, I could buy you a new one if-"

"It's not the same!" Mark growled at his girlfriend. He hated raising his voice like that, but she had gone a bit too far. "It's not the look of scarf, Muse, it's how I got it. It was a gift from mom before…" He paused and again and looked to the ground, mumbling, "My_ fucking _father."

"It's about time you let that go, Mark," Roger said. "My dad's a no count too, but I haven't seen the bastard for ten years. Besides, at least your dad isn't just as fucked up with drugs as mine was."

Mark scowled, but he could not top Roger's story. Roger had lived almost his whole childhood with his mother. She loved her son, but oftentimes was so busy that she couldn't watch him. That was part of why he got into drugs, along with the fact that his own father was an addict. The lack of supportive fathers was something that the two friends had in common and it sometimes helped Mark remember not to lose it on Roger. All the same, it still made him angry.

Mark looked up at the girls who were watching him. "What? Are you going to give me a speech too?"

Mimi shook her head, frowning. "No, but maybe it's about time you faced your problem instead of throwing a fit like a kid."

"You should talk," Mark grumbled. "You ran away from home."

Mimi took a deep breath and released her anger. "Sí, pero, el pasado es el pasado."

Mark looked quizzically at Roger, who translated for her. "The past is the past. And she's right, Mark. We all have things that royally fucked with us, but you've got to let it go. It's really just a scarf."

Musetta remained silent. She had nothing to relate to Mark or Roger's stories about their fathers. Her parents were still married, albeit they were a bit careless about her sometimes and let her make stupid choices (like living in godforsaken bohemia), but she still had them.

Mimi sensed her friend's sadness and stood up. "I'm going to get a drink at the Life. You wanna come, Muse?"

"Yeah…" Musetta said and joined Mimi.

"Roger?" Mimi asked her boyfriend before the two girls walked out the door.

"I'm coming, Meems," he muttered back and gave Mark another look. "It's up to you, Mark. But I'd say pull yourself together." And with that, the rocker left his best friend alone to think it over.

After a half hour of sitting in the loft by himself, Mark sighed and grabbed his camera. From there, he headed out there door. _They're right_, he thought, _I'm being pretty stupid about a scarf._

Walking down the block to 10th Street, Mark watched some little kids playing at the nearby park. Again, he remembered being a kid before his parents separated. He remembered growing up in Scarsdale and being friends with Roger and Maureen… well, mostly Roger. Maureen had not really gotten to know him until he was in one of her production crews despite that he had always secretly admired her in high school. Thinking back on his childhood and the good times in the past also helped him remember that he did not always need a comfort scarf to feel better. He had his friends.

Smiling, the cameraman walked into the Life Café and found his friends sitting at one of the tables. He waved to them and pulled up a chair next to Musetta.

"-Decided to join us, Marky?" Mimi asked.

"Yeah. Look, I was acting childish back there, and you're all right. It's just a scarf."

Roger nodded before he ordered Mark a drink.

"What made you change your mind?" Musetta asked.

Mark smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "I guess I just remembered that bad things may have happened to me, but I've still got the good things too."

"No day but today; leave your scarves behind," said Mimi and drank down another sip of her drink.

Just as Mark was feeling relaxed and content, he heard a shrill yell of, "Maaark!"

Mark briefly held his ears and shook his head at that sound. His friends all did the same and rolled their eyes quickly. In a few seconds, Maureen appeared at their table, smiling wide.

"Hello Maureen," Mark greeted his ex-girlfriend. She had a large shopping bag slung over her shoulder with its contents nearly popping out. "What've you got th-"?

"Well," Maureen interjected before Mark could even ask, "I was down at the performance lot, helping the homeless with some donations, and as I was reaching in the bag of donated clothes you'd _never _guess what I found!"

"Anything leather?" Mimi asked quickly, reaching for the bag.

"Don't I wish," Maureen replied taking it back from Mimi. "It was nothing interesting to me, but it looked familiar, so…" And then, the actress pulled out a blue and white striped piece of fabric, which spread out and unfurled to the floor.

Mark barely took one look at it before yelping, "My scarf!" and snatching it away.

"Mark, come on, it could be anybody's," Roger started.

"No, Roger, it's my scarf. Look! Here's where it got ripped and Mimi sewed it up. You can see the stitches." He smirked. "It's dirty as hell, but at least it's back."

Mimi smiled slyly. "Well, Mr. Good-things-besides-my-scarf, why don't you give that useless pile of scrap fabric to the homeless shelter?"

Mark clutched the scarf tight. "I'll buy them a scarf sometime, but there's no way I'm losing this again."

The rest of the bohos shrugged.

"He's back alright," Roger muttered.

**The End.**


	9. Close To You

_Author's Note: There's so much to be said about this story that I don't know if I can fit it all into one author's note. First off, I've never taken this long a hiatus on anything. Sure, my oneshot series have taken over a year to finish, but not over a year between updates! I'm so sorry to my fellow RENTheads reading this, and hope you'll forgive me enough to at least read this short._

_You might have guessed that I haven't had much interest in RENT fan fiction lately. College and "9" fan fiction got in the way of that fandom for a long time. However, there was one event in this past year that brought me back to RENT at times, and that was the death of my father. I've begun writing a lot of fan fictions about coping with loss since that, and this is another one about the subject as well as being somewhat dedicated to him. The title of this fan fiction comes from a song called "Wind Song" from the Animé "Jungle Emperor Leo," another recent interest of mine. I would definitely listen to the song with translated lyrics if you can find it online.  
_

_Once again, I'm sorry. Hope you enjoy this story and to wrap this whole shebang up, mojo in the next one!_

_*S. Snowflake._

* * *

**Close to You**

It was a cloudy October 31st. The cemetery was fairly quiet, save for the cries of a couple of party animals at the costume shop across the street. None of the bohemians at the graveyard were thinking about what particular holiday it was though. They were instead preoccupied with one particular grave.

The group had been at the grave for a while, all paying their respects. A man in a baggy brown jacket spent the longest amount of time there. His words to his former lover were undoubtedly the most heartfelt of all words said that day.

"Angel, as our friend Roger once said, I find I can't hide from your eyes," he quoted from the musician boho's great song.

Roger himself grimaced at the acknowledgment, but tried his best to be polite as his friend finished his speech.

"Collins," Joanne said, putting a hand on the man in the brown coat's shoulder, "I've got to leave for my case now."

"I should go too," Maureen added, clearly wanting Joanne's comfort in this sad situation.

"No problem," Collins replied sadly. "All a' you can go if you want."

Maureen and Joanne set off together with that. Roger and his girlfriend Mimi looked to each other and nodded before following Collin's advice.

"See you at the Life tonight," Roger called over his shoulder.

Collins didn't respond to Roger's comment. He didn't have much of an appetite at the moment, and thinking of eating at the Life Café wasn't an appealing thought.

Roger and Mimi weren't the last of the bohos to leave though; Mark was. He didn't speak, but he managed to keep eye contact with Collins for a moment before going his own way.

"_It's only because he cares," _Angel used to say.

Collins laughed at that thought. Some things Angel had said and done never left. Angel's plastic bag outfits were now all in Collins' possession and his motto, "Today for you, tomorrow for me" was a group saying as well as the title of Mark's rather successful (for starving artists, anyway) documentary.

Mimi, near death at the time, had sworn she had met Angel somewhere between earth and Heaven. To the day, none of the bohemians questioned her experience. Many a time, Collins had considered letting his health decline too so he could be with Angel, but he knew that would never be what Angel wanted. He knew that Angel wanted him to live as long and happy a life as he could before the virus took hold.

* * *

_Their glasses of wine at the Life Café clanked quietly together in a toast. Wine was about the most expensive thing that Angel and Collins could afford at the café. But Collins scowled at the petty amount he could give his love. It could never be enough for someone as wonderful as Angel._

"_What is it, honey?" Angel asked._

_Collins tried to hide his discontent then. "What are you talkin' about? I'm fine."_

"_Don't try to lie to me," Angel said with a pout._

_Collins sighed. "I just wish I could afford to get us some food. Or even better, go eat at some place better than this."_

"_Why?" Angel asked, "I like it here."_

"_I know, I like the Life too, but I want to give you something more special."_

_Angel smiled sweetly. "Darling, you already have."_

_Collins smiled back before leaning over and kissing Angel softly. _

_The couple drank through all of their wine before heading to Angel's temporary flat. It was such a modest little room, even more tiny with the drumsticks, boom box, and scraps of old clothing all around, but Collins didn't mind that. He enjoyed lying in bed beside Angel, talking before dozing off with him. The conversation of this particular night had happened a few times before, but none had proved quite as memorable a chat._

"_Do you get scared about tomorrow?" Angel asked, "–About dying?"_

_Collins turned to face Angel. "Yeah, but not about me. I'm scared about you."_

_Angel bit his lip and looked away. "If I die first, promise you won't worry about me. I know you don't really believe in heaven, but just remember that."_

_Collins chuckled, thinking of something. "And if I go first, dump my ashes in the MIT philosophy classes. That'll teach em."_

_Angel laughed, but re-grew his grave tone. "I meant what I said."_

_There was a long pause between the lovers before Collins said, "No day but today."_

* * *

Collins might well have stayed in that memory if he hadn't noticed the moisture on his cheek. His damned memories had reduced him to tears.

"_Promise you won't worry about me," _Angel's words echoed in his ears, _"…just remember that."_

But it wasn't really worrying about Angel that had reduced him, Collins realized. He was feeling sorry for himself. That wasn't what Angel wanted either, and yet he couldn't help the feeling of his heart chilling with sorrow.

Then, suddenly, Collins felt very warm. He couldn't place the source of the warmth, for it was from above, yet it certainly wasn't the sun. What on Earth could be causing this sensation? He didn't really care though. The warmth felt so good on his frozen heart and tear-stained cheeks that it seemed his pain was melting away.

Then a voice seemed to whisper, _"Don't worry about me. No day but today."_

Though the philosopher didn't believe in heaven or hell, he knew that he had just felt something extraordinary; beyond this earth even. Whether it truly was a miracle or a mere hope burning in his heart, Collins felt more at ease about Angel than he had in many months' time.

**The End.**


	10. Pink Carnations

_Author's Note__: At last we have reached the final story in the series! As I said in the last story, I apologize for taking so long to finish this series. I just have moved on a bit from the RENT obsession I had toward the end of high school. I can thank it for opening my eyes to alternative stage musicals and helping me cope with a truly horrible time in my life, but I now have some different stories to tell, many of which I'm happy to say are my own creations._

_This last short is about Joanne and Maureen. I think I made a mistake_ _in "The Camera Loves You" by portraying their relationship as purely comedic. When I put some thought into a drabble I wrote (of the same title) I realized that their constant fighting and making up was actually really sad. Should I come back to writing fanfiction for this musical in the future I might explore these two characters further._

_*Signing out,_

_S. Snowflake._

* * *

**Pink Carnations**

_No one ever said love was easy,_ Joanne tried to remind herself as she sat there starting to cry at the table. …_But they do say love is blind._

Joanne only wished that she were blind to her girlfriend's actions. Nearly everyday she found new evidence that Maureen had been seeing someone else while she was working on a case. Sometimes Maureen would just act a little more nervous about a kiss than she should have. Other times she would smell of wine; maybe another person. Oh yes, Joanne would catch plenty of distinct smells of perfume or cologne, depending on the gender of that day's adventure.

Once, Joanne had caught Maureen with a smudge of blue lipstick on her face. Maureen tried to deny that it was someone else's, but Joanne knew better. Even when she played the most ridiculous of roles, Maureen never donned that shade.

Then of course there was the Christmas incident. It seemed like everyone from the bohemian circle had fallen in love that night while Joanne felt the first cold truth in her relationship. Maureen flirted with some girl at the Life Café behind her back. It had hurt Joanne so much that she kicked Maureen out of her apartment. That had only lasted about a week though.

At first Joanne had tried to ignore all that. Often she wouldn't put everything together until long after some strange little detail she had barely noticed passed by. Maureen's ex boyfriend Mark had tried to warn Joanne by telling her about his own relationship with the drama queen. His words made her more nervous and wary of the situation, but it was easy to ignore those warnings in the middle of a round of kisses. Still, after a while she couldn't help but start to put all the pieces together–like a giant, heart-wrenching jigsaw puzzle.

They fought all the time naturally, but lately the spats had been getting worse than ever. Joanne always tried to keep control over her anger, but she couldn't help outright screaming at Maureen sometimes. She would lose control, and she hated that feeling. Furthermore, despite all the winning arguments she could make as a lawyer, no experience could prepare her for an opponent that never accepted defeat. This wasn't a situation controlled by law but by emotion and her need for company.

Every night that she and Maureen lay in bed together Joanne doubted Maureen's promises. Doubting a kiss or two early on? Ha! That was nothing compared to doubting whether her partner had spent the night in only the bed _they_ shared.

They had been in a particularly nasty fight today. Joanne had presented all the evidence that Maureen was unfaithful to her, more elaborately than she really had before, but the drama queen didn't want to listen.

"You don't care about me, do you?" Joanne yelled. "It's all about _you_! You forgot about Mark, and now you're forgett–"

"Oh, don't you even talk about _Mark_!" Maureen interrupted her. "You said he was an asshole!"

"Well, yeah. Back when we started dating and from the way you talked about him, I did!"

"Fuck! I'm not cheating on you, I swear! Even if you don't believe me, it's true."

The argument continued to escalate, and Joanne still got nowhere until she asked Maureen to leave the apartment. For the first time that day they agreed on one of Joanne's decisions. Maureen told Joanne that she would gladly "get the fuck out."

About an hour after the actress left Joanne began to regret her choice to throw her out. She couldn't help but care about Maureen–her honeybear–despite the fact that she was untrue. Yet swinging between regret and rage was no way to hold up a relationship, and Joanne knew that.

_So then why don't you quit? Oh god…don't start going codependent, Joanne, _the lawyer thought as she held her face in her hands.

The door opened and Joanne jumped. She thought through every word Maureen could say and how she would respond. She would have an answer to everything.

"_You fucking bitch_," would be met with both calm words and attitude.

"_Hey, baby_," would doubtlessly start another fight. It was too casual a phrase given the circumstances.

Crocodile tears would be the biggest challenge. Joanne couldn't resist Maureen's big, puppy dog eyes, or the tears of sorrow that she could so easily produce.

All these, and any words and actions in between, Joanne prepared herself for in minutes. Still, she didn't want to face Maureen. She wished there was someplace–somewhere to hide, acting like child being punished for something she didn't do.

She heard Maureen's heels clunking against the floor behind her. She expected her to talk immediately, but surprisingly no words came from the drama queen.

There was a long moment of silence. Joanne could almost feel Maureen's eyes piercing though her back, trying to read her for some kind of sign. Joanne wondered if she was as unreadable as she felt.

"Pookie?" Maureen choked.

Joanne swallowed the spit in her mouth, but did not reply.

After several more seconds Maureen turned to leave, but not before leaving something at the table. The door shut and Maureen's footsteps slowly faded as she walked out into the hall. Knowing that she was gone, Joanne turned around to look at what Maureen had left.

It was nothing special, just a bunch of 6 pink carnations. They were still in their plastic wrapping with nothing added to make them prettier or live longer. Some of the petals were even beginning to brown at their tips. These humble flowers were meant as a serious gift. Joanne might have laughed if her eyes didn't sting with tears.

She let a tear or two fall down as she processed Maureen's gift. Without hesitation, she hugged the pink carnations close to her chest and tried to find a vase. She couldn't help herself. A part of her was in love with her girlfriend's cheap, yet well-intentioned promises.


End file.
